


Know how it has to be with you I know your moves and your mind And your mind

by rosa_himmelblau



Series: The Roadhouse Blues [47]
Category: Wiseguy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 11:20:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29313222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosa_himmelblau/pseuds/rosa_himmelblau
Summary: Nothing is easy, but sometimes that's the fun of it.
Series: The Roadhouse Blues [47]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1069713
Kudos: 1





	Know how it has to be with you I know your moves and your mind And your mind

Vinnie had thought that the incident with the blonde, as he liked to think of it, had further defined and stabilized their relationship, but Sonny being Sonny—unstable, unpredictable, mercurial—was acting progressively stranger. In the last few weeks he'd been short-tempered, snappy, and distant. The only thing Vinnie could figure was that, in the wake of his defloration, he was back to questioning his sexual identity again. So, Vinnie put on his best long-suffering little woman face and weathered his irrational outbursts and sulking—and punches. The punches were the easy part; Vinnie hit back now. In the last three weeks, they'd had more knock-down, drag-outs than they'd had since Sonny determined Vinnie was in fighting shape again. 

It didn't help that the sex had gotten weird again, with Sonny acting like he had no idea what Vinnie was doing in his bed.

So, when Sonny didn't come home from his office one evening, Vinnie chalked it up to more weirdness, and when the phone rang, he answered it with no particular expectations.

"Hey, yeah."

Was Sonny drunk? He sounded kind of loopy.

"I'm having dinner out. You just go on to bed." Vinnie heard a woman giggle in the background, but not too far back. What the fuck?

"Go to bed? It's just after seven! You usually let me stay up 'til eight thirty even on school nights."

Sonny laughed.

"Where are you?" Vinnie asked.

"Don't worry about it, I'll see you in the morning."

"In the morning? You're not coming home tonight?"

Again, the giggle; where the hell was he? "Maybe, I dunno." And then Vinnie was listening to a dial tone.

He waited half a minute, then dialed *69. The phone rang a few times, then it was answered by a man who gave the name of a bar Vinnie knew Sonny liked. "Yeah, sorry, pal, wrong number."

What the fuck was going on?

Vinnie put on his shoes to go find out.

She wasn't even a semi-pro, she was a pro and Vinnie knew Sonny knew that. Not that Sonny had ever eschewed professional services; he liked them for the same reason most men did: no emotional entanglement required; you didn't even have to pretend if you didn't want to. But what was he doing eating greasy hamburgers with a pro, planning on spending the night with her? Spending the night? The point was, she provided a service and when you were done, you said goodbye. Why would he want to pay to spend the whole night with her? To cuddle?

He still looked edgy, his mind focused not on the blonde, or his food, or anything else. And why the hell was he with a blonde anyway? Sonny preferred girls with Mediterranean looks—dark hair, dark eyes. Botticellis with tits, as he so elegantly put it.

This one could have been a present from Susan, she was so Nordic. She was eyeing Sonny like she could see through his suit right down to his wallet. Of course, with his suit, the contents of that wallet were pretty easy to guess. His inattention didn't seem to bother her in the least. But Sonny hardly needed to pay somebody, just to ignore her; he ignored Vinnie all the time for free.

They were sitting at a little round table for two. Vinnie snagged a chair from an empty table, dragged it over, and straddled it. He gave Sonny a hearty clap on the shoulder. "Hey, long time no see!" He nodded at the blonde. "Who's your friend?"

Sonny didn't even look surprised; he looked hungry, and not for his hamburger. It didn't surprise Vinnie, really; of course, he was horny, he'd been avoiding touching Vinnie except to hit him. This seemed to be some kind of plan, but Vinnie couldn't figure out what it was. He took Sonny's hamburger out of his hand and took a bite.

"Yeah, wasn't expecting to see you tonight," Sonny said. "This is—uh—"

The blonde held out her hand. "Heather,"

Vinnie gave her hand one firm shake. "Nice to meet ya." He took another bite of Sonny's hamburger. "Order me a shake," he told Sonny. "And another burger." He tossed what was left of Sonny's hamburger back on his plate.

Sonny's look was odd: avid. Anticipatory. What he'd been waiting for was for Vinnie to show up and do something. Was this the something?

"And what do you do, Mr.—?" Heather asked. She was sizing up his clothes and finding them wanting. Still, he was connected to money.

"I spend a lot of time sitting in the park," Vinnie said. "Look, Heather, you seem like a nice girl, but you got no idea what's going on here. You sticking around is just going to be a waste of everybody's time, so—" he stuck his hand in Sonny's pants pocket, felt his erection in a way that couldn't possibly be accidental, then removed his wallet. From it, he withdrew some hundreds and, not bothering to count them, held them out to Heather. "Here's some cab fare."

Heather looked at Sonny, who didn't make eye contact with her. Vinnie stuck the wallet back in his pocket, giving him another good grope.

"You've been great, sweetheart," Sonny said, and his voice was clear and calm and utterly detached. "Have a nice night."

Heather looked back and forth between them, then smiled. "You, too."

They watched her walk away, then Vinnie turned to Sonny. "You haven't ordered my hamburger and shake yet."

Sonny smiled at him and waved their waitress over. "Hamburger with everything, large vanilla shake, plate of onion rings." As the waitress walked away, he asked Vinnie, "How much you give her?"

"Who knows? I left you enough to pay for dinner."

When Sonny laughed, it sounded a bit shaky.

Vinnie wanted to eat slowly just because he knew it would drive Sonny nuts, but he wasn't a hundred percent sure his hypothesis was correct and he was anxious to find out.

Maybe he was anxious about something else, too.

Sonny picked at what was left of his own hamburger and stole a few of Vinnie's onion rings but discarded each after only a bite. Finally, when he reached for another one, Vinnie grabbed his wrist. "Eat the ones you have," he snapped.

"Huh?" Sonny looked blankly at him, his eyes hugely dilated. He licked his lips.

Vinnie threw his napkin on his plate. "Let's get out of here."

When they were back at the apartment, Vinnie closed the door behind them, pushed Sonny against it, and leaned into him. "Listen to me," he said severely. "You need to learn to use your words."

"What words?" Sonny asked. He had reached that state of horniness where he was slow and stupid and couldn't track, couldn't follow what Vinnie was saying. Vinnie really liked him this way.

But he needed to make a point. "If you want me to fuck you, you can say 'I want you to fuck me,' they're easy words, single syllable, you know what they all mean. You don't gotta pick up a blonde, piss me off, dump the blonde—it's like the Rube Goldberg version of seduction! And I'm telling you, it won't work a second time. You try it again, I'll take the blonde away from you and you can spend the night with your hand. Now say the fucking words and let's get this show on the road."

Sonny kissed him, a starving, desperate kiss. You'd think he hadn't been kissed in a hundred years.

Vinnie moved his mouth away to say, "Very nice, I love it when you kiss me, but if you wanna get fucked, you need to say the words."

Sonny took a deep, shaky breath. "Yeah," he said on the exhale. "Yeah. Yeah."

"Close enough. But we're gonna work on this. Seriously, you just spent like six hundred bucks just to get what you could've had by coming home and saying six little words. Hell, you could get by with just two: wanna fuck? You're an idiot sometimes—"

Sonny lunged forward, grabbing him, and Vinnie didn't so much take pity on him as give in to his own desires.

"How much do you like those slacks?" Vinnie asked, giving Sonny a slight push toward the bedroom.

"What?" Sonny stared down at his legs. "What?"

"Because you've lost so many nice clothes to your slowness in getting them off, and then you complain about it. If you want to wear those slacks again, unzip them and take them off yourself."

Sonny unzipped his slacks, trying to step out of them as he walked towards the bed and tripping. Vinnie grabbed him to keep him from falling. "Thank God you weren't chewing gum," he muttered.

"Shut up," Sonny muttered back and Vinnie pushed him onto the bed. 

He had Sonny down on his stomach, pillow under his hips, but he was just rubbing against him, listening to him whimper. Sonny liked being in charge; he liked it a lot. But Vinnie was discovering, he liked Vinnie being in charge too, at least in bed. He liked Vinnie ungentle and slightly annoyed and holding him down. Was that weird? Maybe. But it worked for Sonny and Vinnie thought it was going to work for him, too.

Sonny's whimpering had turned to a low moan and he was humping the pillow. Vinnie got the lube and used it to get Sonny ready for him. "You know something?" He whispered in Sonny's ear.

"What?" Sonny wasn't really answering him, he was expressing his indignation that Vinnie was trying to have a conversation with him instead of fucking him.

"Nothing. Tell you later." And he shoved into Sonny, feeling him come almost immediately. _Stupidest relationship ever,_ Vinnie thought, but he had to admit it was the most fun, too.


End file.
